


Movie Night (Tora and Saga Remix)

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Movie Night [2]
Category: Alice Nine, the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saga got talked into attending Ruki’s night of grindhouse movies with Tora. Except when an unexpected scene appears, why is he the only one not turned on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night (Tora and Saga Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> Second in a four-part series, written in 2012, examining a single movie night incident from the perspectives of four different couples.

The one reason why he was sitting on this couch eating pizza and watching cheesy ‘70s movies, Saga thought, was because Ruki could convince him to do damn near anything. Seriously, if the man wasn’t a musician, he should have been a politician (even though Ruki hated politicians with a passion).

Have a full schedule at Shibiya Seven Days between Alice Nine and Tokyo High Black? Ruki will convince you to also play bass for his Luna Sea cover band. Want a quiet evening out with your boyfriend? Ruki will make you believe what you really want is to double date with him and his own boyfriend at a noisy club.

And when you’re planning to spend a pre-tour night at home, just ordering pizza and playing Winning Eleven, Ruki will convince you that you really want to have that pizza in his apartment, among God only knows how many people, watching what he called “gu-rin-du-hau-su” movies. Hell, he’d even talked Tora into coming, and Tora usually avoided gatherings like this whenever possible.

Okay, Saga had to admit that the films were entertaining, in a kinda-stupid way. And Ruki’s pizzeria delivered higher quality stuff than the one near his and Tora’s place. And it was nice to see Shou lying over there on the floor looking relaxed and happy, given all he’d taken on as the band’s new leader. But it was still kind of annoying that Ruki had put thoughts in his head - again.

Still, he and Tora were among the last eight people left after most of the guests had departed. Mostly this was because Tora was showing no inclination to go. He was sitting on the couch comfy as could be and genuinely getting into these silly movies.

Saga, however, was only half-paying attention. He’d stopped trying to read the subtitles awhile ago; they were in a bright yellow color that was starting to give him a headache.

“What did he say this movie was about?” he mumbled, shifting slightly. He was in a rather cozy position himself, lying on the couch with his head on Tora’s lap. In fact, he was about ready to fall asleep. Before his eyes passed a parade of random action scenes involving a scantily clad woman armed with some heavy artillery and a martial artist who was performing an awful lot of wire-fu - with visible wires.

“Some sort of revenge drama,” Tora said. “Apparently, somebody killed the woman’s sister and she’s out to find the person.” He ran his fingers over Saga’s hair, almost absently, brushing it back from his eyes. “Not enjoying it?”

“Didn’t say that,” Saga replied, leaning his head back a little into the touch, like a cat being groomed. “Just wondered if it had a plot, that’s all.”

“They didn’t exactly show Kurosawa films in grindhouses,” Tora said, twirling a lock of Saga’s hair around his finger. Saga tried to decide whether he found that annoying or sexy, figured it was a little of both and just settled back into his lover’s lap, watching the other couples.

They all seemed to be in a junk food coma. Kai and Uruha looked like they were literally propping each other up. (Of course, in Uruha’s case, Saga figured that probably had as much to do with his booze intake as what he ate.) Hiroto was sprawled next to Shou, head on his lover’s stomach, and their host (this was all his doing, that bastard) was sitting in front of the easy chair where Aoi was sprawled, leaning against the guitarist’s legs.

Small wonder that there seemed to be little interest in what appeared to be the film’s climax, with blood, bullets and limbs flying everywhere. Good, Saga thought as the last bad guy fell and the hero and heroine embraced. It’s over, we can get a cab, maybe get in one round of Winning Eleven . . .

Except it wasn’t over. Suddenly, there was a rather ugly bedroom and the heroine taking her clothes off. And there was Tora, giving a sudden jump that nearly sent Saga sprawling to the floor.

“Holy . . .” Tora said. “No way.”

Oh, yes, way. Before they knew it, they were looking at the heroine sprawled across the bed, with the hero’s head lowered over her breasts, hiding any actual mouth-to-nipple contact from view. Yeah, right, Saga thought. Fake. So fake.

Saga was known, from time to time, to indulge in hardcore porn, of both the straight and gay variety. Tora never showed much interest in those types of videos, walking away from the computer as soon as he figured out what Saga was watching. (He sure showed interest in the aftermath of Saga watching those videos, though. He’d been known to get quite creative in the aftermath of a viewing session).

Which is why Saga couldn’t figure out why Tora seemed so interested now. He was leaning over, eyes wide open, rapt attention focused on the screen. Okay, so the woman was a damn good moaner, and knew how to pull convincing facial expressions. But that fold of blanket that hid the main action as she rode him? Oh, please. The wire-fu was more convincing.

So if that was the case, why were Tora’s hands on his hair again, stroking more insistently now, almost petting him? And why the hell was he feeling something stirring - yes, stirring - below his head?

And why, in the name of all that was holy, was Hiroto suddenly springing to his feet, cheeks flushed, and rushing toward the back of the apartment, as if he had a sudden need to jerk off? Wait a second, he wasn’t going to have to do that. Shou was rushing after him.

Insane. This was insane. Especially since Uruha and Kai were furiously making out now. Was there some kind of sex potion in everybody’s pizza but Saga‘s? And how the hell did he manage to get the lucky slices?

Finally, the couple on the screen had their fake orgasms (okay, so the woman was a REALLY good moaner), and kissed, and the end credits began to roll. Not that Kai and Uruha saw it. They were still kissing and groping like teenagers on prom night, Kai even sliding his hand under Uruha’s shirt. Great, they were going to have a live sex show on their hands pretty soon, and Saga wasn’t exactly up for that. For one thing, it would make even more of a mess than the mountains of pizza boxes.

He suddenly jumped to his feet, tugging on Tora’s hand. “We’re going,” he said.

Tora gave him a lazy smile. “I like that idea,” he said.

“Save it until we’re out of here!” Saga snapped. He looked over for Ruki, to tell him that they were . . . oh, hell, never mind, he was on Aoi’s lap and they were only a bit behind Kai and Uruha.

“Let’s just go,” the bassist said, and nearly tripped over a pizza box on his way to the door. Well, that would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it? Fall, break your leg, and not be able to get any help because your host and his bandmates were all screwing each other senseless? Forget calling an ambulance; the person on the other end would hear the moaning and think Saga had gotten injured from kinky sex. (Not that Saga was exactly adverse to kink, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you advertised to total strangers).

Neither he nor Tora said anything on the elevator ride down. They walked out into a surprisingly warm pre-spring night, except there was a rather annoying drizzle, with big, black clouds overhead threatening something more substantial.

Once they were out in the street, Saga said, “What was that about?”

“What was what?” Tora said, looking all innocence.

“What happened at Ruki’s!” Saga replied. “Everyone getting turned on by a ridiculous, fake sex scene! I mean, Hiroto was acting like something set fire to his pants. And don’t get me started on the others!”

“You were the only one finding it ridiculous,” Tora reminded him, reaching a hand around to rub Saga’s back. They rounded a corner onto a very quiet side street, with nothing there but apartment buildings - many of which featured dark windows. Apparently, this was the senior citizen district of Ruki’s swankier-than-where-the-Alice-Nine-members-lived neighborhood.

It was a good shortcut, though. At the end of this street was a fairly busy one where they’d be able to grab a cab home easily - they were past last train by now.

“I can’t believe you found that hot,” Saga replied. “You always walk away when I try to show you the real deal!”

“That’s because I don’t find it hot,” Tora said. “You find that stuff sexy?”

“That should be obvious,” Saga said, coolly. “You know damn well what I do afterward.”

“And that’s the one thing I like about hardcore porn,” Tora said. “Otherwise . . . meh. It looks fake.”

“Fake?” Saga said. “What we just saw was fake! How can you call that real and what I watch fake?” After all, there was no doubt about the authenticity of hardcore. The camera came in for closeups all the time so that you knew just what was being put in what else, and how.

“The bodies,” Tora said. “They don’t look like real people. The men are all huge. The women . . . their chests look like beach balls. You just know that everyone’s surgically enhanced. That’s not a turn-on to me. That’s a turn-off. The bodies of those people in the movie tonight? They were real. The woman’s chest looked natural, and the man . . . you can’t fake muscles like that.”

Okay, he had a point there. “What they were doing was still fake, though,” Saga said. “You didn’t see, well, proof.”

“You mean, closeups?” Tora said. “I find those unsexy. Look, when you and I are making love, can you see that? Me pushing into you, I mean?”

Saga frowned. “No, but I can feel it,” he said. That’s what the closeup shots always evoked to him - a visual reminder of the sensation of being penetrated, whether it was a man and a woman or two men.

“See, to me, what I see when we’re in bed is your face. Your expressions. And that, to me, is what’s sexy. How you react, the noises you make.”

The more he talked about it, the more turned-on he seemed to be getting. That hand on his back was moving lower, and lower, until it was very close to the danger zone. He wasn’t going to go those last few inches, was he? Oh, yes, he was. Saga gasped as he felt Tora’s hand rubbing his ass.

“So,” he said, breathlessly, “we seem to have different tastes in porn.” Why the hell was Tora doing this? Anyone could come see them. They were in public. And yet, that hand wasn’t moving, except to squeeze and caress.

That bastard. He was trying to get Saga’s arousal level to catch up to his own.

“Seems that way,” Tora said, a bit too casually. “But our tastes match in other things, don’t we?”

The sprinkle had become a full-blown rain now, not overly hard, but enough that you knew that the droplets hitting your skin were pretty much cause for getting into shelter sooner rather than later. Saga turned to Tora, intending to tell him that soon as they saw a cab, they were grabbing it.

Except before he had a chance to, Tora was grabbing Saga’s arm and pulling him between two buildings, deep into the shadows. “What are you doing?” Saga hissed. “It’s . . .”

He never got the word “raining” out of his mouth, because suddenly, said mouth was very much engaged in an intense kiss. A push on Saga’s shoulders, and he was up against the wall, making a small sound of surprise and pleasure as his lips opened.

Oh, hell, this whole evening was insane. This was just the latest float in the parade of madness. But he wasn’t going to say anything about “this,” since at the moment, it consisted of Tora pushing his hips forward, rubbing himself against Saga . . .

And Saga found himself raising a leg and hooking it over Tora’s hip, grinding the two of them together as his tongue continued to plunder his lover’s mouth. All right, if they were going to be caught up in insanity, he might as well take it to the limit.

Tora apparently liked how Saga was thinking, because he was unbuttoning his shirt, slipping his fingers underneath to brush a nipple. When he started to circle the bud with maddening slowness, Saga had no choice but to let his head fall back, out of the kiss, moaning, his leg dropping from Tora’s hip as well - giving him more freedom to move.

Which, of course, only encouraged his lover more. He unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way and pushed it aside, turning a heated glance at the expanse of smooth, pale skin bared to him. And the raindrops rolling over it just made them look all the more inviting.

It was one he was going to accept. Tora leaned over, pressing his tongue against the trail of one droplet of water, on Saga’s neck. He began to follow it downward, lapping up the water, tasting his lover’s skin beneath it - so deliciously familiar, all the hotter because of the unfamiliar, dangerous setting.

“Oh, my God,” Saga panted, tangling his fingers in his lover’s hair, the hot, smooth wetness of his tongue sliding down his chest, still tracing the raindrop. His fingers were running over Saga’s chest and stomach, the solid heat contrasting so much with the cold wetness of the rain . . . except they weren’t going low enough, stopping right at his waistband, then moving upward again.

“Damn you,” Saga murmured right before the tongue found his nipple - and then, he could only let out a loud moan, clutching at his lover’s head again. But was Tora content with just licking and sucking? Oh, no, he had to lick, then lift his head and watch as another raindrop rolled over the bud, then lick again, longer this time, brushing it slowly with just the tip, then a long, slow stroke of soft and hot.

This was getting more and more nuts. Were there people in those buildings they were sandwiched between? Were they going to hear the noises and call the cops? Were they going to be the objects of the biggest scandal PSC ever saw? (He’d blame Ruki, that bastard. This was all his fault. Him and his stealth softcore porn . . .)

Then, Tora’s hand slipped down below the waistline at last, and Saga didn’t give a damn about scandal, because he was cupping his erection, gently stroking it through the fabric. One finger traced the outline of it, moving from the base all the way upward, pausing at a spot that Tora knew damn well was extra-sensitive and rubbing back and forth.

“Tell me what you want,” Tora murmured, before bringing his tongue to the nipple again, circling the areola, then closing his lips over the bud, sucking.

“I . . . I . . .” That finger was rubbing the spot again, and he was scraping his teeth lightly before sucking again, adding tiny little flicks of the tongue as a punctuation mark. The man expected him to speak coherently with this going on? He was lucky if he’d be able to put two thoughts together without his brain exploding.

“Go on,” Tora murmured. “You must have some wonderfully dirty thoughts going through that head of yours.” And then, he moved his head to the other nipple and unzipped Saga’s pants, pushing them down. The first thing he felt was the cold rain hitting his hot cock, and the shock made him throw his head back, crying out loudly.

He could feel the droplets rolling down his most sensitive flesh, the cold contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from his nipple as that talented tongue rubbed slowly over it, back and forth. Saga was leaning against the wall, panting raggedly, not caring at all who heard him now. The entire goddamn world could hear them now, and take videos as well, and show THAT during Ruki’s next movie night.

“How can I talk when you’re doing that?” he managed to pant.

“Would you rather I do this, then?” Before Saga had time to think, Tora was dropping down on his knees, and that mouth was on Saga’s erection, the wet cold being replaced by searing, wet heat.

This wasn’t happening, Saga thought. This was a very vivid dream, that was all. But no, it was no illusion that Tora was sliding down, slowly, enveloping Saga in deliciousness. He paused, sucking, before pulling back, exposing his cock to the rain again, hot being replaced by cold.

Tora pulled him all the way out of his mouth, and Saga groaned in disappointment - only to feel that tongue touch him at the very bottom of his shaft, then stroke upward, following the path of a raindrop again. At the top, he slid over the head, around and around, flicking over the opening.

When he headed downward again, tracing yet another raindrop, Saga was finally able to speak a coherent phrase. “Fuck me,” he gasped. “I want you to fuck me.”

Tora looked up at him, a smirk on his face. “Right here?”

“No, in the middle of Shibuya. Where do you think?” Saga panted. Oh, no, he wasn’t moving. Damn the consequences and the risks, they were finishing what they started, here and now.

Tora stood up, and the two lovers looked at each other for a long moment, panting. He leaned over and captured Saga’s lips with his, and Saga tasted his own precome and rainwater and pizza and shrimp chips, plunging his tongue in to get more, to draw in this microcosm of their evening.

They broke apart, and Tora grabbed Saga’s shoulders, spinning him around. Saga found himself pressed against the cold, wet wall, leaning forward, bottom sticking out, his own heavy breath creating mist in the damp air. He heard Tora fumble in his pocket for the lube he always kept on hand, followed by the squish of the tube.

He pushed his face to the stone again as the first finger entered him, the heat seeming more intense than ever in contrast to all the damp cold. He wanted to tell him to hurry up, but that wasn’t a good idea with Tora. Saga needed to be well-prepared, since Tora was much bigger than an average Japanese man.

Lips kissed along his neck lightly as the second finger entered, and Saga thrust back against the invasion, wanting to take him deeper, to get at least some small level of satisfaction for the need inside him. Cold wall, cold rain, hot body pressed against him, heat filling him from the inside, stretching him, scissoring gently.

He let out a gasped “Oh, yes,” as soon as he felt the third finger push into him. It was almost time, he was almost ready, he was going to be feeling it soon.

“You need it, don’t you?” Tora murmured. The fingers pulled out, and Saga could hear a zipper being pulled down. Thank God.

“Yes,” Saga replied, pushing his bottom back more, letting out a near-purr as he felt hands gently part him.

“You’ll get it now.” And then, Tora was pushing forward, and Saga braced himself. No matter how well he was prepared, it was inevitable that there be some pain at first. But he rode it out, patiently, knowing what was coming . . .

Like the feel of Tora pausing inside him, filling him completely, making Saga think he didn’t know where he ended and Tora began. Sex with him wasn’t like sex with anyone else he’d ever been with in his life - it was, sometimes, an overwhelming experience.

Tora leaned over and kissed Saga’s neck. “You okay?” he whispered.

Saga nodded. “Go on,” he murmured.

And then, Tora was moving, and there was the sensation of that huge hardness sliding out of Saga, brushing sensitive nerve endings that made him shudder with a slow-burning sensation. There was an increasing emptiness as he pulled out, leaving Saga feeling unfulfilled again for a split second.

But then, he was pushing in again, filling him, claiming him, and Saga leaned back, trying to take him all in at once. Tora interpreted this as a cue that Saga was ready and eager, and he began to thrust a little faster, those nerve endings now a steady hum of delicious feeling, sending warm tingles to every part of Saga’s body, making him feel hot despite the wet cold.

“You feel good,” Tora murmured as he sped up, his hands gripping his lover’s hips as he leaned over, kissing and nibbling his neck. “So good . . . Your body fits mine so perfectly . . .”

Saga could only moan in return as the huge, wonderful thing pushed deeply into him over and over, and he could do nothing but push back, thrusting his hips sgainst Tora, moaning with every thrust, with every wave of feeling that swept over his body.

The rain was falling a little harder now, pouring over the lovers, wetting their hair and slicking their skin - but they didn’t notice, because to them, nothing mattered in the world but each other. They moved together, moaning, not caring who heard them, Tora pushing into Saga at full piston now, Saga wriggling his hips this way and that, trying to get contact with his sweetest spot . . .

When Tora’s hand wrapped around Saga’s hardness, starting a rapid stroke, Saga knew he wasn’t far away from fulfillment. He pushed forward against the hand, backward against his cock - until one thrust hit exactly the spot he was looking for.

The pleasure exploded through Saga’s body like fireworks, and he nearly screamed as he climaxed hard, his come mixing with the rain as it poured over Tora’s fingers. He felt a few more hard thrusts, and then heard Tora cry out, pouring himself into his lover.

Tora sagged forward against Saga’s body, pinning him to the wall, and Saga turned his head, their mouths coming together in a soft kiss. They remained tightly connected like that for a long moment.

Then, reality slowly began to dawn on Saga. Holy hell. They were in an alley. In the rain. Which, by the way, was starting to take on “pouring” status. They were half-naked. Any moment now, either the cops or someone they knew was going to come by, and he didn’t know which was worse.

When Tora finally moved away from him, Saga pulled up and zipped his pants, then buttoned his shirt, as fast as he could. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said. “Or else, I’d kick your ass for that.”

Tora leaned over and kissed him. “Oh, come on,” he said. “You know you loved it.”

“Well, yes,” Saga said. “But I’d still kick your ass.”

Tora zipped his own pants, put his arm around Saga’s shoulders and led him out of the alley. “Let‘s go,” he said. “We need a cab - fast.”

As it turned out, they didn’t need one. As they rounded the corner, onto the first relatively populated street (well, it had a combini and several other storefronts, all closed), a car slowed down next to them. One of their roadies was behind the wheel, and he leaned out the window.

“Oi!” he said. “What the hell are you two doing walking in the rain?”

Oh, crap. Good thing he didn’t see them five minutes ago. He’d have one hell of a story to tell the rest of the road crew. They’d have to put up with craned necks and whispering through the whole Court of Nine tour. It would be like high school on steroids.

“We were at a party at Ruki’s,” Tora said, casually. “We left when the rain got bad.” Pushing up the timeline of their actual departure, of course.

“Oh, sure, sure, and couldn’t find a cab. I understand perfectly. Hop in, I’ll take you home.” Their staff knew, of course, that Saga had been living at Tora’s place for months, and that Shou and Hiroto shuttled back and forth between their two apartments. They also knew enough to keep their mouths shut, because launching a scandal would mean they wouldn’t work anywhere in the music industry again.

The men both climbed into the back seat. Only now did Saga realize just how cold he’d been - he was shivering.

“Odd thing, this weather, eh?” the roadie said as he sped away. “Snowing one week, warm and rainy the next. You never know, right? You think you have everything figured out, and then - bam, surprise.”

Like this evening, Saga thought. The sex scene was a surprise. So was Tora’s reaction to it. So was how he dealt with it. This was the weirdest night he’d had in a long time.

But Tora was right about one thing. In the end, he’d loved it. Every bizarre, dangerous part of it. Damn him. He knew Saga too well - and that’s why their relationship worked so very beautifully. So what if they got turned on by different visual stimuli? In the end, they thought alike about a lot of other things, and that’s what really mattered.

“Sometimes,” Saga said, “surprise isn’t a bad thing, right?”


End file.
